


Fixed With a Nap

by thatnerdemryn



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Airplanes, Author Googled All Statistics, Canon Universe, Falling In Love, Fluff, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Emily Prentiss/Jennifer "JJ" Jareau, Light Angst, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, One Nap at a Time, canon-typical mentions of violence, no beta we die like men, what is canon?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:09:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26750413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatnerdemryn/pseuds/thatnerdemryn
Summary: It wasn’t fair, really, that Spencer had barely felt sexual attraction to anyone when he became of age, and that the second he set foot inside the BAU, his heart clenched with one look at Hotch. He wasn’t going to let it affect his new position, his goals that he had worked so hard for. But Hotch’s head leaned back against the seat and Spencer got a good look at his bosses neck, and--Spencer wished he could fall asleep on airplanes.Or - 5 times Spencer fell asleep on the jet thanks to Hotch and 1 time Hotch fell asleep with him.
Relationships: Aaron Hotchner/Spencer Reid
Comments: 18
Kudos: 348





	Fixed With a Nap

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, it's me again. Still on my Hotch/Reid kick *finger guns*. Enjoy some extremely unexpected fluff and a tidbit of angst, because these boys just live for it. 
> 
> Fair warning that this has not been beta read so all inevitable mistakes are mine. Also, I did not follow the canon timeline of who joined the BAU when and chose my ideal team for this fic. 👌🏼

**_“The best bridge between despair and hope is a good night’s sleep.” — E. Joseph Cossman_ **

* * *

When Spencer Reid first joined the BAU, he didn’t realize it would come with almost weekly trips on a federally funded airplane. It wasn’t that he was afraid of flying; he had visited his mother in Las Vegas and spoke at the most prominent universities on the East Coast after he received the first of three PhDs in California. But he would be the first to admit that being elevated over 30,000 feet more often than the average human had his usually realistic brain itching for land. 

The jet shook with turbulence and as he grabbed the arms of his seat with white knuckles, he heard a soft chuckle in front of him. He opened his eyes that had been shut tight since their late takeoff and they connected with Hotch’s amused gaze. 

Spencer said what he knew best, “You know, there’s a one in 20 million chance of being on a commercial airline flight that experiences a fatal accident and the number only increases when factoring in private flights such as this one--” He gulped and chanced a glance out the window. He wasn’t sure what he expected to see, but the dark clouds dimly lit by the lights of the airplane did nothing to calm his nerves. 

“You have a better chance of being killed in the field than you do on this jet, Dr. Reid,” Hotch responded, crossing his arms over his chest. Spencer focused back on Hotch to try and settle his rolling stomach, but instead, Spencer’s eyes decided to fixate on the way his biceps bulged through the tight button-down shirt no longer covered by his jacket. 

Spencer nodded to quell any further conversation. He had to take some time to convince himself  _ not _ to be as attracted to his new supervisor as he presently was. It wasn’t fair, really, that Spencer had barely felt sexual attraction to anyone when he became of age, and that the second he set foot inside the BAU, his heart clenched with one look at Hotch. He wasn’t going to let it affect his new position, his goals that he had worked so hard for. But Hotch’s head leaned back against the seat and Spencer got a good look at his bosses neck, and--

Spencer wished he could fall asleep on airplanes. 

* * *

**1.**

A few months into working with the BAU, Spencer realized there was no way he would survive his job without being able to fall asleep on their journeys back from their cases. There were nights when he felt the fatigue of his hard word catch up to him, but something always kept his eyes open.

He knew in the back of his mind that it made sense. He had suffered from years of unrelenting bullying in his childhood that made him more vigilant than the average human. That was coupled with the responsibility of taking care of his mother from such a young age, on constant lookout for the potential of another one of her episodes. He had to lock his doors twice and keep his FBI regulated firearm as close to him as possible in his own home. 

He wasn’t sure when he had started trusting the team around him. It may have been Garcia’s relentless nerdy flirting, JJ’s kindness that outshined anyone Spencer had ever met, or Emily’s sarcasm that seemed to only match Morgan’s. The team was slowly turning into more than just a group of coworkers that he was hired to spend time with, they were… family. 

It was Hotch’s voice that broke him out of his thoughts, a gentle, “Do you want to lay down?” Spencer shook his head and flattened his shaking palms on his thighs. He wasn’t sure why just a few words from Hotch made them so sweaty. Actually, he knew exactly why and he cursed his memory for never letting him forget. 

Spencer cleared his throat as he continued shaking his head. “We’re almost back at Headquarters right?” He asked, glancing out the window as if it would give him any indication where they were. All he could see were clouds in the barely lit sky, a sea of white that had Spencer inhaling deeply. 

“We’ve still got a few hours in the air,” Hotch said regretfully. Spencer let out the deep breath and leaned his head back against the chair. His eyes darted to each member of his team to see them fast asleep in their perspective spots; JJ with her head on Emily’s shoulder, Rossi with a book on his knee, and Morgan with his mouth wide open, ready to catch flies. 

“Why do you never sleep?” Spencer asked, quickly pressing his lips together as if he had spoken out of turn. Hotch smiled warmly at him, a smile that Spencer hadn’t seen directed at anyone else. He tried to push his hopes down as he smiled back. 

Hotch shrugged and gestured to Spencer before challenging, “I could ask you the same thing.” Spencer shrugged back and narrowed his eyes at his boss. 

“You could, but you probably would have done that by now if you thought it was important.” Hotch chuckled gently and raised an eyebrow at Spencer. He wouldn’t say he blushed, but the red in his cheeks was impossible to hide. 

“I don’t sleep if my team doesn’t sleep,” Hotch said as if it was simple. Spencer felt like he could lose his breath. He had known Hotch to be a fair leader, an incredible supervisory agent, and someone who didn’t just have a team. He had learned that quickly when he joined the unit. Each member was family, first and foremost. 

“Did you say that to guilt me into sleeping?” Hotch shook his head, but Spencer felt his shoulders relax and his eyes grow heavy with every passing moment. 

“I have to call my son, so I’ll be awake for a bit longer. Sleep, Spencer,” he said softly. It might have been the way Hotch’s voice seemed to whisper through the air, or the low grumbled laughter as his son recounted his daily adventures, or maybe the way Hotch said his first name so perfectly. But Reid found his rapid thoughts lessening and his muscles loosening and before he knew it, dreams had taken him over. 

* * *

**2.**

Reid hadn’t remembered falling asleep a few weeks later. He was talking to JJ in hushed tones, helping her process a case involving women that could have been her, and then suddenly, he had jerked awake as a cold chill rushed over him. He had told himself, and been told by at least two of his team, to bring more than just a formal jacket or sweater vest on the jet as it had been known to drop in temperature very quickly, but he still hadn’t added one to his bag. 

He glanced around and caught Morgan’s eyes. His eyebrows were raised in a look of concern and Reid shook him off without a word. He scrubbed his hands over his face, trying to wipe away the sleep, before running a hand through his hair. One thing he didn’t mind about sleeping on the jet was that his hair usually remained smooth and unknotted. 

A shiver ran through him again and he couldn’t figure out whether it was the cold air blowing from the vent in the ceiling or the fact he noticed Hotch glancing over at him from the couch diagonal to him. He hated the fact that even just a simple glance from his boss - he had to remind himself as much as possible that he was Hotch’s subordinate - could cause such a visceral reaction inside of him. 

“You okay?” Hotch asked without taking his eyes off of his tablet. Spencer wondered if Hotch thought he had been caught in the act of staring and he let the hope the thought caused settle in his stomach. Spencer nodded, opting for a nonverbal answer so Hotch would look at him. 

When he did, Spencer responded, “I know you’ve all told me to pack warm even if we’re flying to the middle of the desert, but my high IQ apparently doesn’t outrank my stubbornness.” Hotch let out a surprised chuckle and Spencer couldn’t fault him for it. He had grown more comfortable with the team in the past few months and didn’t mind tossing out a few well thought through jokes when he had the time. 

Plus, he was willing to say whatever earned him a laugh from the man he was definitely crushing on. 

“Did you need a jacket? I have--” Spencer shook his head quickly. There was no way he was falling asleep if he could smell the cologne Hotch decided to torture him with every day wafting off of his jacket. Another chill shot through him, but that time, he was sure it wasn’t from the cold. 

“I’m just going to try and rest my eyes,” Spencer mumbled his decision, curling his legs onto the chair next to him and resting his head on the armrest. It wasn’t the most comfortable, but it definitely did the job. He felt his eyes shut slowly and wrapped his hands around his bare arms to try and hold in as much heat he could. 

He felt himself drifting, never quite reaching that point of sleep he had longed for after a particularly brutal case. It was always harder when they couldn’t save someone. Sure, it happened more often than not, but it wasn’t always the case and it wasn’t always as brutal. Even JJ, the person who had to read all of the cases before the rest of the team got to know the intense details, was struggling to sleep from her place in front of him. 

He shivered again and tried not to curse his past self for his horrible decision making. He also tried not to think about how warm he would be if he had Hotch’s jacket wrapped around his shoulders. 

As if on cue, he felt a warmth cover him. He thought his imagination had gotten away from him as it often did when he was thinking about Hotch, but the scent of his cologne - the best parts of autumn - had his eyes widening. He glanced up at Hotch who had a bashful smile on his face as if he hoped he wouldn’t have been caught. Spencer opened his mouth to refuse, moving his hands to the edge of the jacket as quickly as he could, but Hotch’s rested gently against his as he shook his head. 

“Just take it, Dr. Reid,” Hotch whispered, letting his hand linger just a bit longer than Spencer expected it to. It wasn’t the first time Hotch had referred to Spencer as Doctor, but something about the words had Spencer knowing he could argue if he wanted, but he would lose. Spencer nodded and let a smile form on his lips as they gazed at each other. Spencer felt the hope that had previously settled fly around his stomach like moths in the lamplight. 

“Thank you, Aaron,” Spencer whispered, the words barely audible through his tired lips. Hotch nodded and it took even a moment longer for him to pull his hand away. Spencer missed the warmth it provided as he snuggled into the jacket that now surrounded him. Spencer knew it wasn’t quite possible to feel safety and home with just an article of clothing, but he decided to ignore realism in favor of falling asleep and hoping he would imagine the one person he knew he shouldn’t be dreaming about. 

* * *

**3.**

“I hate when we have to fly the furthest possible distance for a case with less than enough sleep to even consider being human,” Morgan grumbled as they all staggered into the jet. Spencer took a look around at everyone’s tired faces and was grateful that he decided to go to bed early the night prior. 

“Actually,” Spencer started and the whole team groaned, “the farthest possible distance would be in Adelaide, Australia which is approximately 16,913 miles give or take where you are in--” He abruptly stopped when Morgan smacked the back of his head. 

“How are you this smart so early in the morning?” Emily muttered as she slouched into her chair, sunglasses falling to the brim of her nose. Spencer shrugged as he sat, pulling his messenger bag onto his lap as he accepted a cup of coffee from Hotch. 

The small smile on Hotch’s lips directed at Spencer disappeared as Garcia appeared on the screen. “Good ‘morrow my sunshines!” Her peppy voice seemed to echo through the speakers. Emily groaned and slammed her head against the back of her chair, pushing up her sunglasses as she peered down at her tablet. 

“What did you find out, baby girl?” Morgan said, crossing his legs as he took a long sip of his coffee. 

“So, victim numero uno is Ashley Lainee, a 43-year-old mother of, oh, two young sons,” she said with her lips formed into a pout. “Divorced last year but dad has a solid alibi and by solid, I mean locked  _ tight _ , and by that I mean--” 

“Incarcerated?” JJ guessed, rubbing sleep from her eyes. 

“Ding, ding, ding, we have a winner! He’s been locked up in San Francisco for tax evasion - how boring - for the last month.” Garcia’s fingers seemed to dance over the keys as all of their tablets chimed. “I sent over some crime scene photos so that I could get them off of my screen, hitting the big red x as we speak, but the local LEO’s have no idea how to even begin with a scene like this.”

Hotch considered her words and looked around the jet before stating, “Morgan and Prentiss will head to the crime scene and make sure none of them have tampered it. Garcia, where are the kids?” Hotch asked, his voice softer when mentioning children as it always had done. 

“They’re with maternal grandparents at their home, they all lived together,” Garcia commented in a voice that clearly held relief. 

“Great, Rossi and JJ will go talk with the victim’s family. See if the kids have seen anything out of the ordinary or noticed anything strange about their mother over the last few weeks.” They both nodded, Emily leaning her head back against the rest behind her as if she could fall asleep at any moment. “Sp-- Reid, you’re with me at the station. You can start working on the geographical profile while I see what took them so long to invite us in.” 

With that, the team went mostly silent. They would wait until they were closer to debrief fully about the case, all of them too exhausted to bounce around ideas that early in the morning. They had a five hour flight ahead of them and plenty of time to refresh on the jet so Spencer pulled out his overused copy of  _ Jane Eyre _ and thumbed the pages, not focusing too hard on the words he had already memorized. 

He wasn’t sure when he fell asleep, but the frigid hands on his neck had him waking quicker than he would have liked. His eyes met Hotch’s sympathetic ones and he pushed himself up in a panic, afraid he had missed their debriefing on the case. Hotch was much closer than Spencer had thought he was which became glaringly obvious when his forehead connected painfully with the bridge of Hotch’s nose. 

“I’m so sor--” Hotch held out his hand before pressing a finger to his lips and gesturing to the rest of the jet. Everyone was sound asleep with the exception of the man in front of him, holding his nose in his fingers and squeezing one eye shut. 

“You had fallen asleep with your neck at what looked like a very uncomfortable position. I didn’t mean to startle you, I just figured you wouldn’t want to wake up in pain,” Hotch apologized. Spencer shook his head and before he could think about it, reached up and cupped Hotch’s cheek in his hand. 

“I-- Thank you,” he breathed by way of apology. He knew Hotch wouldn’t accept one. He used his other hand to move Hotch’s from his nose and check for any damage his head might have done. He became suddenly aware of how close they were in the tight space when he could feel Hotch’s breath against his lips. 

Neither of them made a move to pull away when Hotch whispered, “Your hands are really warm.” 

Spencer stared up at him with wide eyes and nodded before stuttering, “I guess you can thank my hypothalamus.” The joke seemed to confused Hotch if his furrowed eyebrows said anything so Spencer continued. “It’s the part of your brain that produces hormones that regulate internal body temperature and--” Hotch shook his head with a smile. 

“I know what the hypothalamus is, Spencer, I do have a law degree and a decade of experience in behavioral analysis.” Spencer thought he was offended, but the smile turned into a playful smirk and Spencer visibly relaxed. 

“Sorry, I, uh--” Spencer trailed off, removing his hand from Hotch’s face when he realized no real injury had been inflicted. “You just surprised me, is all,” he decided, settling back into his chair. Hotch took the seat beside him and Spencer made note of the fact the two seats across from him were as good as empty sans some bags. 

“I know you’re not much for physical touch so I’m sorry if I overstepped,” Hotch apologized. Spencer recognized his tone as Agent Aaron Hotchner and tried not to let it hurt. 

“Just hands?” Spencer offered, holding his up in mock surrender. “I don’t mind being touched, in fact, hugging for twenty seconds releases oxytocin which is extremely beneficial in avoiding touch starvation,” Spencer cited off, feeling suddenly embarrassed by his mind. Hotch just smiled at him and leaned back in the chair, his eyes closing for the little bit of time they had left to rest. 

Spencer couldn’t bring himself to ignore the gentle press of their shoulders or the way the back of Hotch’s hand pressed solidly against his thigh. 

* * *

**4.**

There were some cases that made it even harder for Spencer to catch up on sleep even when the exhaustion was overwhelming. His mind was racing, his fingers would be trembling if he could raise them from his thighs, and his body was feeling the ache of the beating he had taken from an unruly unsub. 

He tried,  _ really tried _ , not to let his insecurities get to him when yet another bully got the upper hand. He’d been beaten up by many in his time - you don’t have an IQ of 187 and look like Spencer and  _ not _ know what it feels like to have the ultimate wedgie - but when he had gotten older, he thought that pain would end. 

Being a federal agent was obviously the wrong career. 

He reached up to wipe a stray hair from his eye and his fingers brushed one of the several bruises swelling on his face, hissing at the painful contact. He glanced around and saw the rest of the team staring at him as if he was going to break. He wasn’t. 

“I made you some tea, mint, just how you like it,” JJ said softly as she handed the warm cup to Spencer. He smiled at her maternal offering and patted her wrist before she stepped away to sit beside Emily. They shared a look that Spencer so clearly perceived as sympathy and his stomach curled. When he caught eyes with Morgan, the man smiled at him. Spencer wanted him to make a comment, crack some stupid joke about how his pretty boy wasn’t so pretty after the day they had, but even that was apparently too much to ask. 

He avoided looking at Hotch. It might have killed him to know that Hotch was back to seeing him as the weak  _ child _ who joined their team almost a year ago. Spencer knew that wasn’t who he was - the unsub had mastered the art of gaining the upper hand on men just like Spencer - but that didn’t stop him from feeling useless, like someone who needed saving. He attempted to remind his pesky thoughts that the team worked together because they always needed back up, but they kept telling him that if Morgan was in his place, there’d be far fewer bruises and even less self-consciousness to deal with on their flight. 

“Jack wanted me to tell you about the science project he’s working on with Andy,” Hotch said as he took a seat across from Spencer. He couldn’t help himself from glancing to where Hotch’s voice had come from. 

He nodded before whispering, “Yeah?” He hated how timid it sounded, but if it meant Hotch would just  _ talk _ to him, he decided he didn’t care. 

“They were supposed to do a boring old baking soda and vinegar volcano for the science fair, but he remembered your conversation about dry ice and dish soap and convinced Haley to let him try it.” Spencer perked up at that, even more so when Hotch held up his phone and offered it to him. 

Spencer watched closely as Jack squirted a perfect amount of dish soap into the volcano and poured the water until it was a few inches from the top. He beckoned someone over and soon, Haley came into view to assist him in dropping a few dry ice cubes into the top. They both stood back as the volcano bubbled and erupted just as Spencer knew it would. The bright laughter the followed was music to Spencer’s ears. 

Hotch pulled the phone back to him, smiling down at the grinning image of his son before saying, “He wouldn’t shut up about it when I talked to him a bit ago.” Spencer smiled and leaned his head against the window, staring out of it to try and force his mind to relax. 

“What else did he say?” Spencer asked, hoping Hotch would hear it for what it was - a silent plea to keep his mind off of the pain surging through him. 

And Hotch did just that. He told Spencer all about Jack’s new interest in science now that he knew a doctor with ‘like 17 different degrees whatever that means’ and how math was slowly increasing in interest when it had never been important before. He recounted the homework that Hotch would try to explain to his son but he had never been good at teaching. His low, husky voice lulled Spencer into exactly what he needed. Calm and rest. 

* * *

**5.**

Spencer didn’t mind too much when the jet was full. They needed Garcia on their journey to the middle of nowhere in the middle of the Adirondacks that contained next to no service and an extreme lack of internet connections, as Garcia had so sternly put it. Strauss had also chosen this trip to go into the field with the team which was something Spencer was still trying to figure out why it was necessary. 

But when the jet was full, Hotch always grabbed a seat next to him. Even though he had always tried to make excuses for his boss somehow always ending up next to him, he couldn’t at that moment. They had been the first on the place, both being the only ones at Headquarters when the call came in which meant they were the first to step foot in the jet. 

Other times, the seat next to Spencer was the only one available or it made the most sense for when the teams broke off to discuss tactics at whatever location Hotch had assigned them. But Hotch purposefully took the seat next to Spencer when all the others were open and Spencer didn’t want to contain his excitement at the prospect that maybe - just  _ maybe _ \- his feelings weren’t quite as unrequited as he thought they were. 

Hotch seemed to notice Spencer’s internal monologue and said, “We’ve got a full jet today and I know that you’d rather sit with anyone other than Strauss and Garcia can be a bit--” Spencer let out an uncharacteristic laugh and rested his hand on Hotch’s shoulder. 

“I would much rather sit next to you than anyone on the team,” Spencer said with purpose, hoping Hotch knew that it wasn’t just that flight in particular he was talking about. Hotch smiled softly and Spencer swore he saw red in his cheeks before Garcia made her presence known. 

“My fabulous SSA’s, how are you this afternoon?” She exclaimed, knocking her purse against the back of Hotch’s chair. Spencer held in another laugh at the glare that formed on Hotch’s face. “I can’t wait to see the mountains from the jet, I bet the view is absolutely glorious from up here,” she said as she took a seat across from them to look out the window. Spencer was about to comment that the jet was still on the ground, but Hotch stood quickly which Spencer figured meant Strauss had walked on. 

“Agent Hotchner, thank you for allowing me to join you. I can’t wait to see how the BAU gets things done,” she said, but Spencer could hear the professionalism in her voice. She was all for show and Spencer knew Hotch felt the same. 

His sentiment was confirmed when Hotch sat back down and muttered, “As if I had a choice.” Hotch’s eyes widened comically when he realized Spencer could hear him and he pressed a finger over his lips as if asking Spencer to keep a secret. Spencer nodded and pressed a hand over his mouth in mock agreement. 

The debriefing was quick as the flight to New York was bound to pass quickly and the information they had on the unsub was minimal. Spencer sighed in relief when Strauss finally turned her back to them in order to stare out the window. Hotch seemed to visibly relax on his own now that he didn’t have to put on his federally acclaimed special agent persona. 

“Did you know,” Spencer whispered to gather Hotch’s attention, “that the Adirondacks draw more tourists than the Grand Canyon each year?” Spencer offered, hoping to distract Hotch’s mind from whatever seemed to be bothering it. 

Hotch shook his head and a ghost of a smile appeared on his lips. “And how many is that?” Hotch asked. It was either a test of Spencer’s intelligence or a way to urge Spencer to keep up the good work. Either way, Spencer responded quickly. 

“Between 7 to 10 million people. That number changes depending on the weather and the economic state of the country, of course,” Spencer supplied, playing with his fingers in his lap. 

Hotch watched them as he asked, “How many visit the Grand Canyon?”

“5 million, but I guess both of those numbers would fluctuate depending on if there are any serial killers using the vast territories as their hunting grounds,” Spencer joked, grinning widely at Hotch. Hotch tried to hold back his smile, but Spencer saw it fighting through his morose features. 

“Was that a joke?” Hotch asked even though Spencer knew he was aware of the dry humor Spencer brought to the team. 

“Was it funny?” He retorted, pressing his shoulder playfully against Hotch’s. Hotch just nodded before his eyes wandered back to his tablet. Spencer took that as his cue to leave the jokes aside for a moment. 

Spencer took the opportunity to lean over just enough to peak at the images on the screen. He saw five victims, the ones the poor Miller family had found on their annual camping trip. He tried not to think too much about a yearly tradition broken by tragedy. The chances of coming across a corpse on vacation were ones that even Spencer didn’t dare to research. 

“They’re all different - varying genders, ages, race, body types. Victims of opportunity?” Spencer offered, increasingly aware of how his head rested gently against Hotch’s shoulder. 

Hotch nodded and turned his head so that Spencer could feel his breath on his face when he responded, “There’s plenty of opportunity in a place with a tourism rate the Adirondacks have by your calculations.” Spencer nodded in agreement and let his head fall even more comfortably on Hotch’s shoulder. He was grateful when Hotch didn’t make a move to pull away. 

“From the looks of the remains, he’s been doing this for at least a few years. We’ll have to--” He cut himself off with a solid yawn that seemed to come from nowhere before continuing. “We’ll have to check with local ME and see if they can confirm the time of death and any indication of how long the unsub keeps his victim’s for.”

Hotch nodded again, his chin brushing against Spencer’s hair. It was comforting, knowing Hotch was so close and he could sleep safely and soundly even though the flight was only a few short hours. The gentle press of lips on his head was unexpected but it felt more right than Spencer wanted to let himself feel. 

“You can work on that when we get to New York. But,” he closed down the tablet and settled back into his chair, “for now, you should get whatever sleep you can get before we land. It’ll be difficult to rest knowing Strauss is watching out every move.” Spencer tried to nod, but sleep was so close, he didn’t think his muscles were listening to his brain. 

“We’re a good team, Aaron, because we have the best leader,” he whispered. He thought he heard a silent, “Thank you,” before sleep overtook him. 

* * *

**+1**

Hotch had been pacing up and down the jet’s walkway for about thirty minutes before Spencer finally snapped. Everyone was too afraid to stand up to the boss, too worried that whatever they had to say might break him after having a victim die in his arms. But Spencer had enough of the tension circulating in the musky air and wanted nothing more than to try and bring some comfort to the man he knew by then that he loved. 

“Hotch, please,” Spencer begged, his soft voice the only sound to be heard over the muffled engine of the jet. Hotch didn’t make any move to stop, so Spencer spoke a little louder. “Hotch, you have to--” Hotch glared at Spencer before he could finish and the look of utter rage has his heart skipping a beat. 

Spencer was going to let him simmer, let Hotch take out whatever resentment he was feeling toward the team on him and him alone, but he realized that was exactly what led them there in the first place. 

“Aaron, you have to sit  _ down _ ,” Spencer exclaimed to the surprise of everyone on the jet including Hotch. His first name was something Spencer so rarely used and apparently, it was enough to have him understand the seriousness of his actions. He glanced around the jet at the shocked and sorrow filled faces of his team and sighed heavily before planting himself in the elongated seat beside Spencer. Where there would usually be no room between them, Hotch left a few inches as if scared to close the distance. Spencer didn’t like the feeling that overwhelmed him. 

Hotch opened and closed his mouth a few times like he was searching for an explanation, an excuse, anything to garner back the control he had seemingly lost during the case, but no sound came out. Spencer reached out, both with a hand and with a soft smile in Hotch’s direction, and tugged on his arm. 

“You need to rest, Hotch,” Spencer said. Hotch looked as if he was going to argue but his body gave up and he let Spencer pull him until his head was in Spencer’s lap. It was an unusual position for them to find themselves in - Spencer was usually the one to fall asleep with some part of his body attached to Hotch - but it was exactly what both of them needed. Hotch visibly relaxed at Spencer’s touch, as minimal as it was, and let his eyes shut. 

“I couldn’t save her,” Hotch said and it was all the confession he needed to let Spencer know he needed help. 

Spencer rested a hand on Hotch’s hair and ran his long fingers through the short, silky strands before whispering, “Neither could we.” Hotch nodded and turned just enough to gaze up at Spencer, a ghost of a smile on his lips. 

“Don’t you have a fancy statistic about the people we’ve saved stored up there?” Hotch said, but it sounded more like a plea to Spencer’s ears. Spencer shook his head and used his nails to scratch as Hotch’s scalp. 

“Unfortunately, there’s been little to no evidence collection and not enough research to back any statistical claims I may have. But,” Spencer said softly, “what I can tell you is that we do what we can and you do even more than that. You’re an amazing agent, Aaron, and an even more incredible man.” 

Hotch nodded and rested his hand on Spencer’s that had made a place on the curve of his hip. He wasn’t sure when they had both been so comfortable with being together like that, touching so casually and intimately that no other member of the team could even look at them without feeling intrusive, but Spencer reveled in it for as long as he could. 

When he heard Hotch’s breathing even out and felt his body relax into sleep, Spencer leaned down and pressed a purposeful kiss against Hotch’s forehead, his thumb brushing over the spot like a promise. He leaned his head back against the seat cushion and let the pattern of Hotch’s breathing drag him into a restful sleep. 

Spencer had never been more grateful for how easy it was to fall asleep on airplanes. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm posting a bit of Criminal Minds content on my personal [Tumblr](https://thatnerdemilyj.tumblr.com/) if you're so inclined to follow some multifandom craziness. I also have a [Twitter](https://twitter.com/thatnerdemilyj/). 
> 
> Kudos make me smile and comments make me weep, so please leave them!


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